


Winterfell Pond

by meonaooo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Love, First Time, Forbidden Love, Self-Defense, Self-Denial, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-10-26 12:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meonaooo/pseuds/meonaooo
Summary: Modern AU. This story opens during the summer before Robb's second year at university, and the start of Sansa's gap year. A rare argument between the two quickly escalates and it becomes apparent to all that something unspoken is happening. Deeply bonded to one another through heartfelt moments in childhood, and a traumatic event before college, they are growing even closer as adults. Their parents try to intervene before their unbreakable bond crosses a line. The story focuses on their adult years with references to childhood. The impact on their family is explored.





	1. The Overcorrection

**Author's Note:**

> My tags respect you, and have warned you. Please heed them.  
> This is the first story I've written in years, and I hope to improve with practice. I do hope you enjoy it. It feels good to write again.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sansa had never seen Robb behave so. She’d also been growing increasingly agitated over the past year by his inability to comprehend that he could tell her anything, and everything. She visited him less and less at college to ameliorate her frustration."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 is long and includes a "Part 2" break line for a rest.

Robb arrived home with the slam of a door that reverberated through a home even as large as the Winterfell estate.

“Good Lord!” The sound startled his mother Catelyn who was in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and playing a word game on her mobile.

“What was that?” said Bran, looking to his siblings. He was reclined on a sofa, reading a school book in the library while Arya helped Rickon with math drills. They all froze at the sound.

"Sansa!" Robb yelled. The sound of his voice rose through the cavernous foyer and spread through the grand hall.

Catelyn messaged her brother Edmure to tell him their game would have to continue later, and quickly walked to see what the rare fuss was about.

She stood near the other end of the hall, in the arched entry to the kitchen, studying Robb as he awaited his sister’s response. She caught him just as he was about to yell again.

“What in heavens is wrong with you?” Catelyn said. “Clearly you’re not injured, and no one has died or you would be telling us in a far more civil tone."

She had never heard her son so angry. Her children bickered from time to time but they never screamed at one another, and if they ever had cause to, Robb and Sansa seemed the pair least likely to argue.

“Where is she?” he said, acknowledging his mother with a glance before advancing down the hall. She met him half way as he peeked inside flanking rooms.

He caught glimpse of the trio. “Where is our sister?” They shrugged, not knowing.

“Sansa!”

“Stop shouting,” Catelyn demanded. “What kind of example is that to set for the little ones?

“Younger, not little,” Arya called out from the library. “And it’s an obnoxious example.”

Catelyn chuckled softly then quickly returned her focus on Robb.

“Can’t I have one moment of not being the perfect son?”

“Yes—you’re having it right now,” she said.

Robb had been home from college for two weeks. He was helpful with his younger siblings who still had a week of school remaining before summer holiday, and he took initiative in aiding his parents in running the estate. Still, the normally gracious and thoughtful young man had already tested his family’s patience with two, very curious, mood swings. None of them had the tolerance for a third.

Sansa appeared, her long red hair slightly tousled and flowing to the side as she leaned over a handrail, peering down at them from an upper landing in the staircase.

“What’s happened?” she said.

“You!” He retraced a few steps to better see her.

“And, you!” she dramatically pointed, mocking his words.

He wasn’t amused.

“What!” She was genuinely perplexed by his current state. “Clearly there’s no emergency. You wouldn’t have thought to close the door let alone slam it.”

Robb shot a look to his mother to find her staring back at him with a bit of a gloat over her daughter’s shared assessment. Their rationality annoyed him even more.

“Why didn’t you tell me Jeyne called to reschedule our date?”

“What?” she said, descending the staircase to meet him face to face. “Oh, I did,” she quickly remembered.

His anger started to dissipate the closer she got. He had ample time to take her in. They lived in a Scottish country house, with grand staircases their parents forbade them to rush as a safety precaution.

She was wearing a yellow sundress that set her hair aflame, and made her eyes appear two shades of blue. The straps buttoned discreetly at each shoulder and he noticed one was coming undone.

“No. You did not, slowpoke.”

“I did. And I was changing when you started screaming bloody murder.” Her certainty made her nonchalant. “I wrote it down and left it on the counter. I even used an apple for a paperweight.”

Finally she stood before him.

“This looks good on you,” she said, running a hand across a small patch of fabric in the short-sleeved shirt she’d made for him. She wiped away lint that wasn’t there, and gently ran her fingers along the hem that met his bicep.

As she released the hem of his shirt, she noticed he was holding a bag from the Winterfell Bookshop. “Oooh, is that the book I asked you to pick up? Thank y—“

He pulled the bag away before she could reach it, and placed it on a nearby table.

“Who writes down messages in this day and age—why didn’t you text me?”

Robb saw the look shared between his mother and sister and knew he sounded as ridiculous as he thought. They made no attempt to hide their reaction.

“First of all, why didn’t she text you herself?” Sansa’s patience was wearing thin. She had been enjoying a relaxing afternoon until his interruption. “Second, my phone battery died before she and I even finished speaking of our own plans. She mentioned having to change your date and asked me to pass it along. I wrote it down then rushed out to pick up the boys. You’re welcome, Sir Rudeness.”

“Why didn’t I see the message?”

Sansa looked deeply into Robb’s eyes for a moment.

“May I?” she said, reaching up to touch his forehead. She then cradled his face as she slowly ran the pads of her thumbs behind his ears then glided down to his neck. Robb quickly realized what she was doing but didn’t protest.

“No signs of fever or infection,” she said. "I think our Robb will survive what's clearly a head injury of some sort,” she announced, loud enough for all to hear.

Robb and Sansa frequently played the eye game in Catelyn’s presence but she was often doing several things at once and never payed close attention. This was the first time she was a fully present observer, and something about it struck her with a feeling she couldn’t identify. There never seemed to be a loser in the lingering.

“Robb?” Now it was Sansa’s turn. “Why didn’t she follow up with you directly, and why are you yelling at me?”

Another piece of him melted. His sisters were adorable in different ways. Arya’s comedic candor, and Sansa’s deadpan inquisitiveness, could verbally disarm nearly anyone.

He stayed the course; he was used to it.

“Where did you leave it?”

“I told you. On the kitchen counter—why are you so angry?”

“Because she thought I stood her up.”

“Humph, I would have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

Catelyn humphed in agreement with her daughter then returned to her tea in the kitchen.

Robb’s resolve cracked a little as he fought back a smile. Sansa picked up on it and smiled at him, genuinely innocent of that which he accused her.

_Gods, I love being with you, he thought._

Sansa was beautiful, loyal, smart, and he never tired of her company. His most fun times were those spent with her. He imagined the men who would pursue her when she started university, and he resented them. These yet to emerge suitors peeved him greatly, and he used it to refuel his irritation.

“Show me where you left it.”

Sansa rolled her eyes at him and headed to the kitchen where he followed. She pointed to the counter but the message wasn’t there.

“Sansa, I can’t believe you!”

“And I can’t believe you!” A bit of emotion started to creep in. “Why on earth wouldn’t I give you the message, Robb? I like Jeyne, and I like you, present behavior excluded.”

Sansa loved Jeyne however Sansa didn’t love the idea of Robb and Jeyne. Nevertheless she did leave the message.

“Admit it.”

“My word, calm down, Robb,” said their mother.

“Admit you didn’t leave the message,” he continued.

“Admit you're picking a fight with me. I don't even recognize you right now.”

She was calm, cool, and matter of fact.

“Damnit, Sansa.”

“All right, that’s enough!” said Catelyn. “Robb, you _will_ take a long walk before entering this house in such a fit again, do you hear me?

He nodded his understanding.

“Sansa, did you leave word?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Robb, your sister left the message. There are ten people in and out of this house on a given day. They live here. They work here. And they eat apples. Maybe the breeze took it when someone walked by. Maybe it’s under a piece of furniture.”

“Clearly he’s in love with Jeyne,” said Sansa. “His reaction is a complete overreaction.” She enunciated the words and scowled at him.

“What? No.” He calmed immediately. “I’m not in love with Jeyne, Sansa.”

“You seem pretty worked up about it for a boy who’s not in love,” she said.

“Or in serious like—are you kids still calling it that?” Their mother piled on and topped it with a chuckle. “You must have been thinking about this first date for a long time,” she hummed.

“I am neither in love nor in serious like with Jeyne,” he said, to Sansa then to his mother.

“You’re blushing,” said his sister.

The urgency he felt for Sansa to know that he didn’t have feelings for Jeyne set him in a state of quiet panic.

“I’m not.”

The sadness with which he said it caught Catelyn’s attention. He sounded almost regretful. She realized he was flushed, not blushing.

I’m sorry I yelled,” he said to both of them.

Sansa placed her hand on Robb’s arm. “Robb?” she said tenderly. “Embrace love.”

He slowly pulled out of her grasp, thoroughly irritated that he’d been duped by her inviting voice, and teasing.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Robb—I’ll talk to Jeyne and sort it,” she said.

He left the kitchen in a huff.

*** Chapter 1: _Part 2_ below  ***

Sansa and her mother exchanged looks.

“Did you really leave a note?” Catelyn asked.

“Of course, I did,” she said. “I don’t know what that was all about.” There was concern in her voice.

“Your brother takes seriously his reputation as a gentleman. He’s his father’s son and his mother’s boy in that regard.”

_Don’t I know it, she thought._

She poured herself a cup of tea, and sat to enjoy the company of her mother.

“Jeyne’s a nice girl but all of you could do with an expanded circle,” said Catelyn. She leaned over to button Sansa’s dress at the shoulder.

“I’ll say,” she sighed.

Her daughter’s voice seemed resigned, and conflicted, and this too caught Catelyn’s attention.

“Do you think you and your brothers and sister would be happier if we spent more time in London?”

Sansa gave her mother an incredulous look.

“Not in the same circles as the King’s Landing crowd, of course,” said Catelyn. “Though, my precious wolves certainly handled that lot.” She was resolute.

Sansa adored life in Winterfell, having come to appreciate it more than she could ever imagine prior to the dreadful year they lived full time in their London townhouse.

“We could take the kids to a show or two this summer but beyond that, no, I don’t want to spend time in London. If we need city life, Glasgow will do just fine.”

Catelyn laughed.

“What?”

“You use to be one of those kids.”

Sansa smiled. “I love our family, Mom…even Arya.”

Catelyn playfully swatted her hand. She then sat back in her chair looking like she’d soon burst, and happy to change the subject.

“Your father and Jon are looking into a safari for the family trip. The Targ Reserve can accommodate a group as large as ours, even this close to summer holiday.”

Their cousin Jon had been raised as a sibling until he went to live with his aunt the year before he and Robb were to start secondary school. Robb took the loss especially hard.

“Oh my goodness, Mom, Rickon would be over the moon!”

“We could be there as soon as next month. Not a word until we know for sure. Jon will talk to—“

“Sansa!” It was Robb’s voice again, piercing the peace, and traveling down the stairs as he hurried back to the kitchen.

Rickon raced to the hall and peeked outside the library as Robb stormed by. “What’s happening,” he said, looking back to Arya.

“How could you be so careless!” His voice was getting closer.

Sansa gasped. This time she knew what it was about.

Catelyn watched her daughter’s face register guilt. “Now what?” she asked.

“I meant to—” she started to explain but Robb was upon her before she could answer her mother.

“Did you just sprint through the house?” Catelyn said, shocked that he had reappeared so quickly.

"Oh, you'll soon see, sweet Cat." And though he flashed his mother a mischievous grin to accompany her nickname, he put a wolf stare on his sister.

The endearment also provided Sansa her first clue that Robb was an open nerve. His accent began to resemble more of their father’s subtle Scottish lilt, and less of their English mother

"Sansa?" he started.

"Robb?" She braced herself.

"I left your new book on your bedside table,” he said, teeth clenched.  
  
“Thank you, I think?”  
  
“Sansa?” he drew out her name.  
  
“Yes?” she said cautiously.

“What happened to my shirt?” He held up the ice hockey jersey he wore the day he scored the winning goal for the Winterfell Crows junior team. It had a large peach colored stain on it that matched the nail polish on his sister’s beautiful bare feet.

“Gosh, Robb, I’m so sorry. I was preparing to clean it but you came home, shouting. I got distracted, and forgot.”

“Oh, Sansa,” Catelyn gasped.

“Not helping, Mom,” her daughter said.

They all remembered the day Robb scored the winning goal. It wasn’t his only goal but it was his most dramatic. Sansa found him magnificent on the ice.

She stood from the kitchen table and walked toward him, offering to tend to it immediately but when she reached for the jersey, her brother wouldn’t hand it over.

“Let me treat the fabric, Robb.”

He gave her the side eye. “Sansa, it’s my favorite shirt.”

“Mine, too. Let me fix it—the stain is fresh.” She reached for it again but he stepped back.

He realized that she was wearing it when he arrived home and the thought warmed his heart. It also caused him great anguish.

Sansa saw that Robb understood the hidden meaning in her words. He softened for a moment and she smiled lovingly in return. He smiled back, a beautiful, true, Robb, smile that grew brighter and brighter, before slowly retreating as the warmth drained from him.

“Ok, that’s it. I’ve had enough. Why are you so angry with me? You’re deliberately trying to sustain a quarrel.”

Sansa had never seen Robb behave so. She’d also been growing increasingly agitated over the past year by his inability to comprehend that he could tell her anything, and everything. She visited him less and less at college to ameliorate her frustration.

“Tell me,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze of support before letting go to give him space.

The touch seemed to ignite the Kraken of Winterfell rather than the gentle young man who would frolic with her on the pond.

_Forgive me, my sweet, kind angel, he thought._

“St—” he hesitated, closing his eyes, and balling his fists tightly as he took a deep breath.

Sansa realized humor would not be an elixir for what was to come next.

Robb recommitted to the words, pushing through hard and soft consonants with a ferociousness he hadn’t unleashed since taking on the Kings Landing bullies. He used it to protect them then, and he would use it to protect all of them, now.

“Stop wearing my shirts,” he growled. It was desperation disguised as rage.

His voice crescendoed with each word, punctuated by a look of shock in his own eyes that matched the stunned expressions of his mother and sister.

Sansa adored the sound of Robb. She’d grown up spending hours talking with him, and often, when they embraced, she’d nestle her cheek into the crook of his neck to feel the vibrations when he spoke his words of greeting and farewell. This day, however, was the first day the sound of Robb frightened her. She feared for him, and for them.

The commanding timbre of his voice rose with the vaulted interiors, gliding along the arched details of the grand home, and dispersing through its rooms.

“I’ve never heard him like this,” said Bran.

Rickon looked worried and on the verge of tears.

Arya gathered the boys and took them to the garden.

It was in the nearby greenhouse that Ned heard the faint sound of his son in turmoil. His wail floated on breezes pulled into and out of the house through a serious of windows designed to naturally cool the centuries old home.

Robb had returned from university oblivious to the sheer bravado and dominance his voice now held. His sister’s reaction was his first realization. The second he said the words he wished he could take them back.

Sansa’s breathe hitched, and her eyes grew large. She looked wounded. The eyes that looked at him so adoringly minutes ago in the grand hall, declaring he deserved the benefit of the doubt, now looked as though someone had slapped her. He’d seen the expression in her only once before and now he was the cause of its return.

She turned her head ever so slightly, trying to see from the corner of her eye if her mother was watching. She was. Sansa composed herself, looking into Robb’s eyes, all pride and poise.

He was desperate for her to understand that this wasn’t a rejection, and desperate to keep at bay the wall that was growing exponentially between them.

He was lost in her stare but broke away, quickly looking at their mother with whom he had a clear sight line. She wasn’t simply watching. She was observing. He had rendered her speechless. His eyes darted to the floor then back to Sansa.

“Stop wearing my shirts,” he repeated, this time soft and pleading.

He hoped he conveyed the apology and explanation that lay in his heart. He prayed their ability to read one another didn’t falter.

It did.

“Done,” she said. “You should have told me sooner that it bothers you. I apologize for the intrusion.”

_Sometimes I don’t know where you end and I begin, she thought._

“And you needn’t feel pressure to continue wearing the—the things I make for you,” her voice trailed off as she motioned to the shirt he was wearing.

He felt like an idiot and reached for her before she could finish.

This time it was she who stepped back. “I see it’s silly now that we’re no longer children. Your silly sister will stop wearing your clothes,” she said plainly.

“You’re not silly,” the crescendo returned.

It angered him that the quietly fierce girl who had saved him just as much as he had saved her, was spiraling into self-absorption and self-doubt. He needed her to see the bigger picture and grant him a moment to be irrational, and vulnerable. He needed to fall apart, and have her catch him before he crashed and shattered their family beyond repair.

“Both of you, stop talking, now.” Catelyn’s tone was gentle and advisory.

She would cradle his fall.

Their parents knew about the clothing and knew when it started. Their eldest children had survived a harrowing ordeal on the grounds of the estate years earlier. The reaction made sense at the time, and they likened it to the security and comfort of a blanket, or a loved one’s pillow.

There were, however, things their parents didn’t know. The scent that lingered in Robb and Sansa’s shared belongings had imprinted on the two in profoundly confusing and intractable ways.

Now, he was approaching 20 years of age and she would soon be 18. He needed her to stop wearing his clothes for his own sanity. This was seemingly lost on Sansa. Whether she was clueless or in denial, it infuriated him. For the first time, he felt truly alone. He couldn’t tell a living soul of his growing inner conflict, not even his cousin and confidant, Jon.

A lack of emotional support was foreign to Robb, and he made mistakes without it. He saw clearly in his sister’s eyes, and the penetrating stare of their mother, that his reaction had been an overcorrection, bound to create more trouble than it set to solve.

“Sansa, I—“

“Excuse me,” she said.

It was her polite voice. In mere seconds a wall had been erected, and now a moat was emerging. He would drown in it if she reduced him to one who received only her requisite courtesy.

She walked around him, to the terrace doors connected to the kitchen. She opened one, stepped outside, and gently closed it behind her.

Robb watched as she slipped into a pair of running shoes kept outside the glass-paned door, then walked away.

“Sansa, wait.” His voice was apologetic and he knew she was close enough to still hear him through the door but she kept walking, headed for the terrace steps.

He placed the jersey on the counter and followed after her.

She was half way down the stone steps by the time he closed the door behind him.

Suddenly she started to run, and Robb knew he’d never catch her. He was taller than his sister but her legs were long, lean, power limbs, developed with stamina from field hockey. He could out skate her on the ice but she could out run him any day.

Sansa was fleeing, fueled by embarrassment and the stunning speed it provides a body. They were on the precipice of self-disclosure and she realized it too late. She left him exposed and vulnerable in front of their mother and siblings. She had to get him, and her, out of the house.

And as she ran, she caught glimpse of Arya, Bran, and Rickon, appearing at the edge of the garden, watching her and Robb flee the truth. She knew then that she should have simply walked away in her distress, not run. The overreaction had undoubtedly raised questions that would no longer go unprobed.

Their father Ned was returning from the glass garden when he spotted them but they didn’t see him. He watched them running in the opposite direction as he headed toward the terrace stairs with a basket of vegetables in hand for dinner.

“What’s that all about?” he asked his wife as he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

Catelyn’s eyes and a nod pointed to the shirt on the counter.

Ned put down the vegetable basket and picked up the shirt.

“She spilled nail polish on it,” his wife explained.

Ned and Catelyn looked at one another in silence until he turned his attention to the view beyond the glass door. The pane he looked through framed his children in the distance. He watched Robb chasing after Sansa across the estate grounds until they became dots that disappeared into the wooded tree line.

He stared through the glass for some time. He remembered game day, too. Sansa was Robb’s greatest champion, cheering in the stands.

Catelyn left him to his thoughts. She returned to her phone, ready to resume her word game with Edmure, exhausted by Starks and in need of a Tully respite.

“Do we need to worry?” said Ned.

Catelyn put down her mobile and looked to her husband. He turned to her, their eyes locked on one another, already answering the question.

End – Ch. 1  
\----------


	2. The Confession in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ask me again.” Robb’s gentle voice was back. It was like a lullaby to Sansa. It came with a lifetime of sweet memories, and she prayed the sweetest one yet was unfolding.

Rickon's tiny figure standing in the distance of Sansa’s periphery caused her to slow to a stop. He was the youngest of them, not yet eight years old, and she didn't want him to be frightened by the discord. Robb met her diminished pace and soon stood a few feet shy of her, heaving to catch his breath.

Everywhere she turned there were Starks. She might as have well have run right into them. She realized she was standing there, dumbfounded, imagining they had superhuman vision and could read the guilt on her face because she loved one quite differently from the others.

She compelled herself to wave. “It’s all right!”

“Oh, no,” Robb lamented. He was relieved when Sansa stopped running but alarmed anew to realize it wasn't for his benefit. They still had an audience.

Distance couldn’t obscure their body language. The youngest Starks looked across the green landscape, puzzled by the duo that never fought. Rickon kept turning his head to look up at Arya then back to Robb and Sansa. He was certain their baby brother was asking their younger sister, “What’s wrong with them?”

“It’s all right,” Robb waved.

“Everything is fine,” Sansa followed.

They knew the trio couldn’t hear them but it was a reflex of concern.

He was relieved when Rickon returned the wave enthusiastically, and Bran extended unaffected effort. Arya however stepped back a pace from her brothers, held up her right arm, and proceeded to extend her middle finger to Sansa. Sansa thought her paranoia and anxiety were making her see things until Arya confirmed the gesture. She repeated the sign language, directing her other middle finger at Robb.

They stopped mid movement, utterly taken aback. Arya was a candid and blunt 15 year old but never crude. 

Ned couldn't see any of them from where he stood in the kitchen. His eldest children appeared no taller than ravens by then. Obscured by gently rolling terrain, it seemed to him that they had already disappeared into the trees.

“I can’t believe she did that to you. I’m so sorry.” Sansa had never seen Arya be anything harsher than witty with Robb.

“You seem to be saying that a lot today.” His tone was gentle but his words hurt her. “Maybe she’s finally lashing out at us.”

“For what?” She saw an entry and took it but Robb continued to resist.

“Let’s head back,” he said looking toward the house. 

“Will you not talk to me, even now?” Sansa was incredulous.

“We have to go back. They’ll think…,” he couldn’t finish. He hadn’t the words.

“What will they think?”

Robb looked back across the grounds, to the garden.

“They’re already gone,” she said. “Please come with me. Let’s sit under our tree, where no one can see us, or hear us. It's time." She took a few steps back in the direction of the woods, hoping he’d follow.

“Sansa!” he said it more forcefully than he intended. 

She flinched, startled by the outburst. 

“I didn’t mean to...I’m sorry, Sansa.” He started to reach for her but withdrew. “A chat and a prayer under our tree won’t fix this. We're not little anymore." 

“I was thinking it's time we found a new tree." She couldn’t bear to see him so dejected.

"Gods, what are you doing to me, sweet girl..." He ran his fingers along the sides of his face, and through his hair, pretending it was Sansa's massaging touch. She was so stunningly supportive.

“You were coming apart. I thought if I got you out of the house, I could protect you.”

“From what?”

“From me,” she said sadly.

He scoffed. “It's me who's trying to protect you."

"So let's meet in the middle," she continued. “I can’t understand your moods, or protect you, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

It was working. He was relaxing despite resisting. Sansa was like truth serum but he wasn’t ready to confront the reality of them. He was programmed to reveal his soul to her and it took great effort to fight the inclination. He wished she were older. He wished their younger siblings hadn't witnessed the scene. And he wished, for once, that he had less attentive parents. Ned and Catelyn Stark were not to be trifled with.

“We should go back. Please, Sansa.”

The rejection was a gut punch. A wave of nausea coursed through her and she felt unsteady. “Will you talk to me!” Sansa unleashed a sound that rivaled Robb’s. It echoed as it moved across a subtle slope of land. The two wondered if the sound reached their parents before the earth returned it to them. 

“Yes, you!” she said, undeterred. “Good Morning, Sansa. Good night, Sansa. Hello, Sansa. You look lovely, Sansa. Thank you for the gift, Sansa. I love the color, Sansa. What is wrong with you!” she said. “Two weeks, Robb! Shall I start calling you Lord Stark or Your Grace this summer?”

It never occurred to Robb that he shared her ability to extend only requisite courtesy. He thought he could hold back and still be warm and loving. He realized she’d been feeling the sting of rejection for some time.

“You’re avoiding me. Admit it. For your sake and mine.”

“Stop pressuring me!” It was another wail.

Sansa’s breathe hitched again and she began to back away from him. This time she recognized the anguish for what it was, and knew without question that she was the cause of it. He was determined to rebuff her attempts to comfort him, and she could no longer stomach the feeling of being someone who irritated him. She was ready to run again.

Robb sensed her frustration. “Don’t you dare run,” he growled.

He was terrified to be alone with her but more terrified to be abandoned by her. Her eyes flickered with anger at his command. She’d lost all patience for him in that moment.

Of course, she ran, but not before doing something that caused Robb to gasp. His angel, his model of grace and manners, pointed her middle finger at him. Secretly, he relished it; it was a pure sibling response, and he needed a moment of clear lines. The vulgar gesture also appalled him, but he needed her to do something off putting. Sansa however went overboard when she doubled up and shot her other middle finger at him. He felt like he was alienating all of his siblings.

“When you’re done clutching your pearls, just go back to the house,” she spat. “Go on—implode rather than open up to me. Gods! You're not alone my sweet boy…but clearly I am.”

Her muscles spiked with emotion and she bolted on an anger jog. He wanted to gently tackle her, and end the spectacle, but he couldn't risk triggering her after King’s Landing. His sister's keen reaction and self-defense abilities were formidable thanks to Arya.

Sansa passed the first of their three trees, the ones their parents set as markers. Each held a story from their childhood explorations. Once she took them beyond the first tree, he began to suspect his sister was not pacing aimlessly. 

Adrenaline scourged through him. He would not allow her to reach the other trees—or lead him to the cottage. He would cave under the weight of tender memories if they went deeper into the woods. He knew he was too vulnerable.

Self-preservation kicked in. With speed that shocked both of them, he caught up with her. She felt his hand touch her waist but wiggled free before he could wrap his arm around her thin frame.

“Sansa, please,” he begged. “Stop!” He’d had enough of the antics. They were more than a kilometer from the main house and the emotion fueled run had cleared his head. “We can’t go to the cottage. Enough!"

Sansa heard Robb’s voice change and she realized he was on the verge of crying. He was emotionally exhausted by the strength it took to speak the words; they expressed the opposite of what he truly wanted. 

She conceded, and stopped running. “Why—why can’t we go to the cottage?” she said as she turned to face him. She hadn’t yet admitted to herself that she was leading him to the peaceful refuge. She was at once comforted and annoyed that he knew her so well.

She watched his chest heaving as he came down from the final sprint to catch her. He looked to the sky for what seemed like forever to Sansa, taking several breathes, and slowly releasing them. She was about to ask him the question a second time but thought better of it. She wouldn't pressure him this time. 

He looked around the woods then closed his eyes, taking in the smells and sounds. Sansa watched as Robb returned his attention to her. He was different. He was finally smiling again, seemingly soothed by his surroundings. His eyes sparked with a tear as he stared adoringly at her.

Anything and everything was finally possible. Sansa could feel it as Robb took a step towards her. He had indeed accepted that he would not survive the summer, or the long walk back to the house, if he didn’t confide in her. 

His eyes were fixed on her. He took a second step, then a third, and so on. She watched him moving in and out of streams of sunlight that penetrated the woods. He was beautiful. The rays captured his auburn hair and blue eyes in a manner ethereal to her. She had drawn Robb a thousand times in her sketchbooks until one day she admitted to herself that the feelings were beyond that of inspiration, and muse. 

A patch of Earth crackled loudly beneath his step. It broke the trance and he stopped.

Her heart sank.

His brows furrowed as he saw the sadness cloud her. He couldn’t bear the sight of her distraught. In those seconds he saw that she was as lonely as he after her visits to him at college ceased.

He took another step. She needed him to come to her, and he needed her to let him in his own time.

Robb advanced again, slowly.

Her breathing deepened and quickened all at once. It fascinated him to watch her chest rise and fall, and the beautiful yellow fabric expand against her soft skin.

One more step and he would be upon her.

“Ask me again,” he whispered. 

He took the last step and stood an inch from her, never taking his eyes off of her. 

Her eyes met his neck where she watched the tiny movements his muscles made as he spoke. She thought of all the times she laid her head in the crook of his neck. She thought of the first time she noticed that he smelled like a man, and the overwhelming sense of connection she felt with him at that moment.

“Ask me again.” Robb’s gentle voice was back. It was like a lullaby to Sansa. It came with a lifetime of sweet memories, and she prayed the sweetest one yet was unfolding.

“Why can’t we go to the cottage?"

“Look at me,” he said gently.

She took in everything about him. His breathing grew deeper as did her own. His eyes turned a shade of blue she had never seen. She felt dizzy, and warm, and even more breathless.

“Because—” he was overcome by a wave of exhaustion. Being close to her left him blissful and overwhelmed.

She heard the breath escape him, as though he might faint. She gently slid her pinky finger around his to comfort and steady him. It worked, as Robb pressed his forehead to hers. When his breathing eased, he pulled back to look into her eyes.

“Because I’m not ready for what we’ll be when we leave these woods. I’m not ready to stop being your brother. I’m not ready to stop being their brother. And I’m not ready to stop being their son.”

Sansa held Robb closely. The embrace reset them. Their heartbeats calmed and recalibrated to one another. A feeling of safety replaced the fear, and soon arousal replaced exhaustion. They leaned into one another, noses touching and caressing the gentle contours and grooves of shared symmetry.

"I love you," she whispered.

Robb groaned as his lips brushed across hers. "Gods,” he said.

"I do.”

"And I love you," he returned. 

His knees weakened and Sansa caught him with a kiss. She buckled slightly at the weight but liked the way it felt it to be enveloped by Robb. The admission unburdened them. The confession relieved them.

The tender kiss slowly grew passionate.

"Sansa?" he said in between kisses.

"Yes?"

"Let's find a tree."

She smiled against his lips. Sansa and Robb would finally sit, and talk, beneath a new tree.

END – Ch. 2  
\----------


	3. The Lovers' Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think she saw what we were that day.”

Robb’s eyes slowly opened as the sound of a breeze moving through the woods pulled him from a light slumber. He awoke to feel the weight and warmth of Sansa, astraddle his lap and nestled against his chest, as they sat at the base of an ancient tree. 

“It’s real,” he whispered to himself.

“It is.” Her voice was soft and relaxed. 

"You're awake," he smiled.

"I am." He could feel her cheek move into a smile against his skin. "I'm just not ready to move.”

She snuggled deeper into him as he renewed their embrace. “I can feel your heartbeat, she said. It was all so very new to her, the feel of a man, and resting so intimately against one. 

She shifted ever so slightly, and Robb moaned. "Careful," he said. "That's why we fell asleep." 

They drifted into a nap, exhausted by the pleasure of petting. Kisses, gentle then frenzied, and gentle again, intoxicated them, as they rocked against one another in the most intimate and forbidden of connections. They sat atop a giant root that provided enough elevation and comfort to be called the lover’s tree, indeed.

She shifted again and her center pressed against his. 

"Stop that," he chuckled.

"Let me move against you," she said, her mouth at his ear, her voice arousing. "It feels incredible." She pulled away to look into his eyes. "I can't imagine what it must be like to..."

"To what, Sansa?" He nestled his nose against hers, as he ran his hands down her back until they fanned across her waist and hips.

“To make love.”

She moaned as he firmly gripped her hips with his massaging touch. His thumbs teased her, sliding along the grooves of her thighs, where he would feel her wetness if only he moved his direction inward but they both knew this wasn’t the time. She dropped her head back, utterly lost in Robb’s touch. As she stretched her arms, the fabric of her dress rode down, nearly exposing her breasts.

“Do you think you could ever be with me?” She came down from her stretch, fixing her eyes upon his. “I mean really be with me in that way. I know you’re afraid, Robb.”

“Yes,” he said. He slowly ran his hands across her chest, listening, and watching her reactions as he learned how to touch her. His touch was endearing and careful.

“Yes, what?”

“Make love,” he said.

“I love you so much.” She looked deeply into his eyes as she ran her hands over his as he stroked her breasts. “You’re so many things to me. I imagine doing things with you and I’m not ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed either, Sansa.” 

She took his hands into hers and kissed them, sensing there was more.

“Do you remember—” he started.

“What you told me that day on the pond?”

“Yes.” He was comforted that they were back to reading one another’s thoughts. “They always—”

“Blame the boy,” she finished.

“Yes. They always blame the boy.”

He toyed with the unbuttoned straps of her dress where they fell at her bosom. She purred as he started to fix her clothes. 

“Not yet,” she smiled.

He sank back against the tree and cradled her cheek, running a thumb across her lips and down her neck.

“What happened at the house, today, Robb?”

“I was overwhelmed.”

Sansa patiently waited, as he found the words.

“I remember the day you bought the fabric for this dress…I drove you. The shop lady said buttons are old fashioned, and you said, ‘They’re practical. I can adjust them as I grow.’ I came home, and you were all grown up.”

She intertwined her hands with his as he continued. 

“And the first tie you made for me…,”

“We picked the fabric that day,” she said. 

“The way it made me feel—cared for, looked after. I wanted to kiss you and hold you more than anything I’d ever wanted in my life.” 

“I felt it, too,” she said.

“And then Mrs. Mordane asked if you’d be needing any more fabric for your brother’s tie—” he said.

“And reminded us both of who we are.” 

“Yes,” he said plainly.

“I think she saw what we were that day.”

Mrs. Mordane’s intrusion had saved them from an unguarded moment. The Stark children were on the verge of forgetting who they were, and where they were.

“And the jersey—Gods, Sansa, I was barely holding it together when I came home and could still smell you in it. You’re so sweet. I love you so much.” 

She looked into Robb’s eyes as he bared his soul to her. She leaned in to gently kiss his lips, much as she wanted to the day in the sewing shop. He watched as streams of sunlight penetrated the woods, setting her hair aglow with deep reds, golds, and oranges. On this day, he would do what he couldn’t then. He touched her hair with one hand, and tenderly ran the other along the crown of her head as he drew her to him. Their lips caressed one another, retreating only to softly kiss necks, and temples, and foreheads.

They lingered in the reverie of one another until a raven perched near them.

“That day on the pond...” Sansa prompted.

“We’ll talk about it. We’ll talk about everything, even your last visit to me at school, but for now we need to get back to the house.”

“How long do you think we were asleep?”

“Not long,” he said.

“So just a pleasure nap,” she said, rocking herself against his firmness.

“Yes,” he moaned.

Her tease turned intense as she deepened her gyrations.

“Sansa…” It would have been a warning were he not panting, providing her the reaction she hoped for.

"I want to do and say things to you that I’ve only imagined." Sansa’s inhibitions were melting. She kissed his neck slowly and deeply. His protective companion knew where to leave a mark, and so he let her. 

“I felt like I didn’t know where I ended and you began,” Robb whispered. He intended to tell her later, but he started to lose himself as her thighs tightened around him and her center rubbed the tip of his manhood. He knew talking would temper their arousal.

She stopped and looked at him with eyes that peered into his very soul. 

“On the pond that day…I felt a connection to you more intense than even this,” he said, palming her hips, and pressing her against him. “I didn’t know where I ended and you began.”

Sansa smiled at hearing Robb articulate the very thought she said to herself many times.

“Since that day I've been hyperaware of your presence,” he finished. “I feel you even when you’re not there.”

"That's how I feel." She ran a thumb across his lips then glided her fingers through his hair and across his scalp. "You're such a beautiful man, Robb. I'm so outrageously attracted to you. Your smell, your voice, your hair, your kindness,” she peppered him with kisses. “The way you protect me..."

"The way we protect one another," he reminded. "You're incredible, Sansa. I'm so proud that you're my—” He didn't know how to finish it.

"Do you feel strange saying it?"

"Only if you keep moving against me like that while I'm trying to say the word." He teasingly bucked back but he had an intensity he couldn’t fully subdue where their centers met.

She moaned before settling on a giggle to lighten the mood. "There. I won't move."

"I'm proud that you're my sister,” he said. 

They stared into one another's eyes until she broke the trance. "Robb?"

"Hmmm?"

"I knew I loved you that day on the pond. It was more than a hero crush. I knew. When we went away to school, I prayed I'd meet other boys. They were either horrible or not you. I'm afraid, Robb. I'm afraid that no one will ever be as special to me as you."

He gently kissed her.

"I feel like I'll go crazy if I don't have you."

“You have me, Sansa. And you’re not alone in this. I prayed, too. There were so many girls at university but the closer I got to one the more undeniable my feelings for you became.”

“So, you’ve been with a lot of girls?” She feared the answer but had to know.

“No—that’s not what I meant…I couldn’t be intimate with any of them. I’ve tried. I can’t.”

“Gods. We’ll be each other’s first?” Sansa couldn’t believe it. 

They held one another, in a lovers’ embrace they could only imagine an hour ago.

“Up, my sweet girl,” he said, motioning for her to stand. “It’s time to return.”

She stood, slowly, and grimaced. Her legs ached after being locked in their nap. Robb remained seated and slowly slid his hands up her calves and thighs, massaging away her aches. When he slid his hands back down, he stopped at the back of her knees, and gently pulled her to him. Her most intimate spot met his face. 

“You smell incredible,” he said. He looked up to meet her eyes. “If I wouldn’t go back with the smell of you all over me, I would devour you right here, right now.”

Sansa felt faint and stumbled in Robb’s grip. She leaned toward the tree and used it to brace herself. 

He chuckled, proud of himself for making her swoon, and charmed by the intimate shyness that lurked just beneath her boldness. She was seeing him in a new light and found it exhilarating. She often wondered what Robb was like as a man. She found him overwhelming and for a moment feared consummating their affections. He had already ruined any man’s chance of ever coming close to building with her what they already shared in their short lives on earth.

He stood slowly, gliding his body against hers, teasing her with his firmness and exploring touches, until their faces met and he kissed her. He pulled away to kiss her covered breasts, and ran his fingertips across her nipples, before returning the straps of her dress to their proper state.

“You’re a tease, Robb Stark,” she said as he fixed her clothing.

“My sweet, Sansa Stark…I’m restraining myself.”

“Turn, love,” she said as she rubbed the stiffness from this lower back. He welcomed her touch and didn’t protest when her hands slid below his waist, gently stroking him.

“What will we tell them?” She kneaded his backside then wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her bosom against his back.

He purred, and she loved the sound of him in comfort, so very far removed from the anguish that held him earlier.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think anything can explain a blow up like that other than the truth.”

“I have an idea,” she said. 

They needed a moment to pause and reset reality with their family, and she knew just what to do.

END – Ch. 3  
\----------


	4. A Pie Won't Fix It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was a bittersweet and dangerous lesson to learn—only lovers lose track of time. The changing position of the sun this time of year wouldn’t hold as an excuse."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know readers of Robbsa value the intimacy and more explicit declarations of love, and it's coming, soon. This bridge chapter is needed to set it up. Thanks for being patient, and thanks for reading my story! An explanation of what happened on the pond is coming, soon, too.

Ned and Catelyn were in the stable yard, readying their horses.

“They’re back,” she said, upon hearing all the children chasing one another in the garden. “Should we—”

“I need to see their faces.” Ned steadied his wife’s boot in her strap and pushed her atop her horse. “And I could do with a ride.”

He noticed a subtle smile on her face despite the seriousness that led them to saddle four horses. “What?” he said.

“Nothing,” she hummed coyly.

“I like helping my lady onto her horse,” he shrugged as he mounted his own. “We’ll leave Florian and Jonquil behind.” They exchanged an expression of relief now that their eldest children had returned.

Ned was never keen on the names Sansa selected but the horses were meant for the children so he let it be. In his youth he would have teased his own sister for such names but not Robb; he thought it sweet.

Ned had been the perfect model of man for Robb. It made sense that when he emulated his father’s considerate ways with women, Sansa was a natural recipient. At first, they found it adorable, and then supportive. The sincerity and pureness of affection between the two was held with parental pride. Now, it was concerning.

They could hear Robb and Sansa playing The Hunter’s Game with the children. It was far more fun than it should be given its dark roots. Its jolly melody, fashioned into a nursery rhyme, obscured the lyrics of medieval war. Grownups continued to love it for the same reason children did. It was loud, uninhibited fun that ignited the imagination with all kinds of characters to play.

And while their parents were too far away to hear the deceptively lighthearted song that kicked off the playful ruckus, they certainly heard when Robb and Sansa jumped from the hedges to launch their garden attack.

Arya screamed with giggles, welcoming the frivolity. She didn’t want to end the day having given her siblings the middle finger.

“Stark pie, finger pie, Arya pie!” They could hear Sansa chanting, and from Arya’s scream, knew Sansa had caught her and bitten her, playfully.

Arya squealed, and broke free, running right into Robb. “Where are my bannermen? I need reinforcements!” her parents heard her shout.

Bran and Rickon jumped on Robb with love and laughs, taking him down by his legs. As Arya escaped his grasp, Sansa quickly seized the petite teen and flung her over her shoulder. “Time to tenderize the meat,” she teased, as she tickled her sister with her free hand.”

Their parents approached just in time to see the finish.

“Where are you taking me, skinny savage?” Arya demanded.

“To the river to wash our catch,” Robb yelled from underneath Bran and Rickon.

“What! Sansa, don’t you dare!” Arya tried to break free, as her sister approached the pool. “Release me!”

“Soon enough, my sweet dish.” Sansa started to run towards the water as Arya flailed.

“No running around the pool!” Robb reminded, forever the eldest.

Ned and Catelyn took in the amusing sight of Arya, captured and flung over Sansa’s shoulder. Sansa suddenly spun her sister into her arms, cradling her as she did when they were little kids, and quickly kissed her of the forehead. “Hold on!” she said as she stepped into the deep end with her in hand.

They watched the boys drag Robb to the pool where he let them push him in. Bran jumped in next then Robb braced to catch Rickon but the little boy proved a fine swimmer.

“Look, it’s Mom and Dad!” Rickon waved from the pool as their parents came into view just as he came up for air.

“Where are you going?” shouted Arya. “I thought we were having dessert out here?”

“We were going to find your brother and sister,” Catelyn shouted back.

“They’re here,” said Arya, as she splashed water at Robb.

“Yes, I see,” said their mother. “Everything all right, then?”

“Yes, and I’m sorry for the tantrum,” said Robb. “I guess I’m adjusting to not living alone again. I’m glad to be home.” Rickon hugged him for a piggyback swim, and it staved off his panic.

“We’re still going for a ride.” Ned’s tone held a hint of irritation.

“I hope we didn’t worry you,” said Sansa.

“Well, you did,” he said plainly. He let the children stew in uncomfortable silence as he stared at his eldest two. It was only a moment but it seemed much longer. “Stable Florian and Jonquil when you’re done, here” he finally spoke. “They’re tied in the stable yard,” he informed them.

"Dessert?" said Sansa, turning to her siblings as their parents rode off. "What time is it?"

Arya detected alarm in her sister’s voice.

"Yeah, what about dinner?” Robb was nervous.

The children were afforded few excuses to miss Sunday dinner. An absence was very much noticed.

"We already ate," said Rickon.

"What?" Robb tried to contain his sudden anxiety.

"You have?” said Sansa.

"Yeah,” said Bran. “We were hungry.” The boy wasn’t oblivious to the worry in his oldest brother and sister’s demeanor; he was simply too young to fully comprehend the reason behind it.

"You've been gone three hours," Arya told them.

It was a bittersweet and dangerous lesson to learn—only lovers lose track of time. The changing position of the sun this time of year wouldn’t hold as an excuse.

"Can we have sweets, now?" Rickon whined. It broke the silence.

"Yeah," said Robb. "Let's get you into a proper bath, first."

He carried Rickon on his back until they reached the pool steps and exited the water on their own. The little boy did a bouncy dance as his brother went to the poolside pantry.

Robb returned with several towels, handing one to Bran who had just stepped onto the concrete, and another to Rickon. He left two on a chair for his sisters. Arya noticed Robb managed to take care of them even when in a daze.

"Sansa?" Arya had reached the steps and noticed her sister still seemed out of sorts.

"Hmmm?" Sansa spoke but still stared off into nothingness.

"Come on," said Arya, motioning her out of the water.

Sansa followed. Arya reached for the towels, and handed her one with a smile. Sansa read it as pity. She returned it with one that conveyed thank you, and hoped her politeness hid her embarrassment, as she took the towel.

Arya watched Robb help the boys dry themselves.

“I got it,” Bran protested. “You’re worse than Mom saying goodbye at school.”

Robb managed a smile as he ruffled the boy's hair but it disappeared when he met eyes with Arya. He quickly looked away and she sensed his embarrassment.

“I’ll do it,” Arya said. “Rickon’s bath—I’ll get him cleaned up before dessert,” she offered. “And, I’ll be sure he uses soap. Right, Rickon?”

She wondered if it was more than trauma and survival that bonded them. Perhaps the shared responsibilities in a family with so many children had contributed to Robb and Sansa’s confusion. She was determined to do whatever she could to prevent a line from being crossed.

_But even lines have markers she thought._

She would pretend she didn’t smell them on one another during the Hunter’s Game. She would pretend she didn’t notice the mark on Robb’s neck as the weight of the water stretched his shirt. And she would pretend she didn’t notice the marks on Sansa’s hip as her dress floated up when they were under water.

Instead, she’d focus on the feeling of unity she felt the day she stood with them, defending one another from the obscene bullies of King’s Landing. She would remember that as much as her brother and sister seemed a duo, they were actually part of a trio of survivors.

Arya didn’t have the energy to be angry. She was too exhausted being the middle bridge to every relationship in the family. She needed Jon. His departure impacted her as much as it did Robb.

Today, she would forget what she saw, and tomorrow she would pray in the Godswood to never see it again. Arya could forgive them as long as she never again received confirmation.

The childhood fun of a pie hunt would not erase the tension as Robb and Sansa hoped.

END – Ch. 4  
\----------


	5. In the Company of Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand if you want to stop. There’s still time. It hasn’t gone too far.”  
> Things had most certainly gone too far.
> 
> FYI - This story is mainly about adults--college age through their 30s. I added this disclaimer after receiving nonsensical comments. High schoolers are children, not little children. Someone may even still call a college boy a kid. He's not a little child either. Nothing bad happens to little children in my story. I did not publish the nonsensical comments b/c they didn't reflect what is happening in my story. For the first time in five chapters, I allowed unregistered users to comment. I restricted it after one hour because the commenters seemed unstable.

Robb couldn’t stand the silence between him and Sansa as they walked the horses to the stables. The reality hung over them. Their parents had mounted a search party to find them. There hadn’t been a need for such a thing since they were seven and nine, and lost in the woods.

After they were found, Ned enrolled the children in scouting courses to ensure they would never again be lost and unprepared. What’s more, he and his wife updated the property’s ancient distress call system. The only distress they saw in Robb and Sansa this day was emotional, followed by a disappearing act. Ned and Catelyn were left to ask themselves why.

Robb was relieved to have Florian next to him. The beautiful beast reminded him of a simpler time in his love for Sansa. His nerves were quickly settling from Catelyn and Ned’s veiled confrontation at the pool.

Still, the sensations in those moments had not left him entirely. Beneath the surface of the water, he had trembled with fear because of the asinine thing he was prepared to do—defend his feelings if confronted. He wondered if he’d lost his mind in retrospect. It would have certainly been his mother’s question, right after she slapped him, or before his father drowned him in a temporary loss of his own mind.

Sansa realized the confrontation was not veiled at all. She had spent more time with her parents in recent months, even working with them on an estate project when she wasn’t studying for university entrance exams. She had gotten to know them as people who also happened to be her parents. She knew that the presence of their younger siblings at the pool had not spared her and Robb an inquisition—it merely delayed it.

“Don’t look so worried,” said Robb. He slid his pinky finger around hers. The endearment from childhood was now, perhaps, the one gesture between them that remained above suspicion. Robb wasn’t ready to let go of the most complete he’d ever felt. Sansa was his other half and the threat of damnation could not blunt this truth.

She smiled to appease him but it was a weak effort. She sensed his sadness at her response and playfully wiggled the union of their fingers to let him know she was still with him.

“What were you and your brother talking about for so long—that’s what they’ll ask us when they return,” she said.” “What was so important that you lost track of time? What—”

“What were you and your sister doing in the woods for three hours,” Robb finished.

“So, you are aware we’ll be expected to explain ourselves?”

Robb looked at her, slightly offended. “I meant don’t look so worried that you draw attention," he said, as he waved with rein in hand, to Quent, a horse trainer on the other side of the stable yard.

He wouldn't let go of Sansa's pinky. He wanted to be irritated but had to admit that he liked her slightly sassy. “I don’t expect today to easily blow over one bit,” he said.

Sansa looked at Robb apologetically as she acknowledged Quent with a wave.

“We’ll say we were talking about majors…majors and dating—dating woes,” Sana offered.

“And to say anymore would break confidences we promised...Gods, they’ll think I got someone pregnant,” Robb fretted.

“We’ll tell them we fell asleep, which we did,” she said. “They’re used to us falling asleep while talking.”

Neither of them liked lies of omission but it’s who they were now.

He deepened hold of her hand as his thumb rubbed circles into her palm. This touch was decidedly more than brotherly as Robb’s hand caressed hers, and their fingers slowly intertwined.

Sansa looked down to where their hands met and longed for their bodies to join as such. She imagined her head resting upon his chest, or his upon hers, as they slept tonight.

She could see the lines of his muscles beneath the thin, wet fabric of his pants. Her eyes moved along the curve of his toned buttocks, to his thighs, and down his calves. Her gaze reached his ankles and she thought of the pond. They were ice skating together, and still learning how to keep their ankles straight.

“Your shoes,” she said, as the sight brought her back to the present. “They’re ruined.”

“Yes, well, when the girl you love takes off running you don’t stop to change your shoes.”

The memory of the overreaction quickly replayed in her mind and the guilt that accompanied it returned in an instant. The feeling that she had risked Robb’s standing in the family left her downcast.

“Robb?”

He looked at her, trying to appear hopeful, and more at ease than he really was.

“I understand if you want to stop. There’s still time. It hasn’t gone too far.”

Things had most certainly gone too far. He stopped in his tracks at the delusional assertion. Even the horses whinnied.

He creased his brow and considered his words carefully. “Do you want to stop?” He wanted to hold her but refrained. He needed her to answer him with as clear a head as possible.

“I saw your face when mom and dad told us they were going to find us.” She let go of his hand to guide Jonquil into her stall.

“And I saw yours,” Robb said. He settled Florian into the next stall then secured the latch before returning his eyes to his sister’s.

“I was terrified.”

“So was I,” he said.

“It was the same expression you had at college. I don’t want to be the reason you feel shame. I don’t want you to be conflicted.” She meant it. She would be selfish no more.

Robb and Sansa had experienced a moment during her last visit that nearly resulted in an admission. Robb’s reaction of stunning avoidance the next day wounded her deeply.

“Sansa,” he pleaded. “Love…”

He looked around to see if anyone could see them. Several people were still about the place, settling their horses before the stables closed for the evening. Winterfell rented stable space to an equine therapy program. Grand estates like it often had to generate income to survive. He wondered if any of the clients suffered from an affair of the heart.

“Gods! Have there always been so many people around?” He was exasperated.

Sansa looked around intently and saw two people, minding their own business, as they boarded their horses for the evening.

“Hey,” she said, reassuringly. Her fingers graced his chin and she gently turned his face back to her.”

He rested his forehead against hers, took a deep breath, and calmed himself. “Hey,” he sighed. “Come with me.”

She looked around, and nodded in agreement. They went to the observation loft. The minute they stepped inside, Robb was stunned. He hadn't been in the space in months and during that time Sansa had helped her parents redesign it. The sun filled, glass encased room provided views of the landscape and pasture so that clients could imagine the freedom of horseback riding.

“It’s so peaceful,” he said. “You helped Mom and Dad do this?”

"I told you I enjoyed your class,” she smiled.

Sansa had twice visited Robb’s structural engineering class, and had a growing interest in architecture.

“You’re a natural talent, Sansa.” He was reverent.

Robb decided to become an engineer after a visit to their grandfather’s home when a storm knocked out the bridge to Riverrun. He was stuck there for two days, without Sansa, or Jon, who were traveling separately with Ned.

What took him one hour to learn, Sansa grasped in half the time. He attributed it to her ability to draw. Neither realized they grasped the content in equal measure but Robb was slowed by his distracting thoughts of Sansa, while Sansa was hastened by the connection she felt to Robb. He was at the end of every calculus problem she solved. She was in the angles of every trigonometry problem he took too long to solve.

“I've known you every day of your life and you never cease to amaze me," he said. “Is there nothing you can’t design?”

“Yes…a world that would accept us,” she said sadly.

He walked to her and took her hand, leading her to a discreet corner of the loft.

"No. I don't want to stop," he whispered. “But if you want to, we will. Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she whispered back.

“Sansa?” He loved saying her name.

“Yes?” she said, as their foreheads touched again.

“I wasn’t ashamed during those months we barely talked. We were growing closer and I was trying to come to terms with it. I meant what I said in the woods. I’m not ashamed, and I’m certainly not conflicted--not anymore. I know how I feel about you, and I accept what that makes me.”

“Then what, Robb…what was it?”

“Guilt, guilt for trying to figure a way for us to get away with it,” he confessed. “You can’t imagine the things I wanted to do to you that last night.”

“I can’t?” she teased in a whisper. She should have been cold in a dress that was still wet but she wasn’t. Her pulse was quickening as she felt his chest brush against hers as his breathing deepened.

She kissed him, slow and deep, and he met the sensual movements of her tongue until he couldn’t breathe.

“Let’s go back to the house. We need to get out of these clothes.”

Sansa blushed and buried her head in his shoulder. “Everything has a double meaning, now.”

“I know,” he said, kissing her temple.

“I wish we could shower together,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“Sometimes I wish we lived alone, Robb.”

“I know,” he said sadly. “Sansa?”

“Hmmm?”

“I couldn’t be ready any sooner than I was.” There was regret in his voice as he alluded to his school apartment. “Do you really understand?”

“I know, and yes, I truly understand,” she said. “If I hadn’t pressured you to open up, we wouldn’t have wasted months apart. I’ll never rush you on anything, again. I’ll be patient.”

He started to speak but hesitated, and a mischievous grin appeared.

“Robb?” she cajoled.

“No, you won’t,” he laughed. He knew her well. He’d also previewed her appetite for intimacy and knew a vixen lay beneath the virgin when it came to him. His ego adored the affection but their intense, soulful attraction did worry him where discretion was concerned.

The moment was pierced by a loud voice over the intercom system. “Robb, Sansa?” It was Jory Cassel.

They quickly jumped apart at hearing their names. Jory was a longtime family friend who managed Winterfell’s business operations, and security. He was also godfather to both of them.

“We’re locking up in five minutes,” he announced.

“Oh my, Gods,” said Sansa. “Do you think he saw us?”

“I wish I could say no but I honestly don’t know,” Robb admitted.

Jory's final sweep always included walkthroughs, and a scan of the security monitors, with the help of a small staff.

“Were the cameras moved during the renovation?” he asked.

“I don’t think so—no, no they weren’t,” she gleefully remembered.

Robb walked to the intercom on the wall and pressed the button. “We’ll be right down,” he told him.

He was astounded by his ability to easily lose track of space and time when with Sansa. Their connection awed him.

She rushed to him and hugged him, exhilarated by the connection, too. The embrace was pure sibling adoration, reveling in their profound closeness.

“Let’s go,” Robb chuckled.

They made their way downstairs and chatted goodbyes with Jory.

\------------------------------

As he watched them leave, he thought of how differently things could have turned out. Jory was with Ned the day Ned got the call from the school. Several calls were coming into Ned’s phone at once. Jory could hear screaming on the other end but he couldn’t make out the words, and then, his own phone starting ringing.

Jory had noticed nothing unusual in the loft this day, except the glare from the low evening sun that rendered the cameras useless. Had he not noticed the flutter of a dress that turned out to be his goddaughter giving his godson a tour of her first design project, he wouldn’t have known they were there.

Tomorrow he’d adjust the security cameras. Tonight he’d be grateful that the sweet boy and girl had grown up to smile in spite of what happened to them.

END – Ch. 5  
\----------


	6. Ch. 6 - Author on Hiatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on Chapter 6 but unable to finish due to the stress of a soul crushing job search. I hope readers will return when I post again. I've greatly appreciated the readers who've supported me in writing. It means a lot in this stressful thing called life.

My hope is that this simple admission will help me break through this rough patch, and soon return to writing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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